


True

by Viscariafields



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Act 3, F/M, alcohol mention, flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: “You have good taste in jewelry, good taste in friends, good taste in alcohol—” and now she took a swig from his cup— “Why wouldn’t I assume that you, the man, must also taste good?”She must have been incredibly bored.There were pettier reasons to sleep with someone. Bianca had once lured Varric to her half of Thedas, reigniting family battles and ensuring assassins from all corners of the world were well-paid and soon dead, all because she was annoyed with her husband for adopting two stray cats.
Relationships: Isabela/Varric Tethras
Comments: 13
Kudos: 19





	True

“I don’t understand how you can be true to a woman you haven’t seen in years,” Isabela complained. She had draped herself over one of his chairs after pouring a cup of his best brandy. She’d been doing that recently, leaving the noisy bar to sit in his chambers and read his manuscripts. Maybe it was because Hawke was shacked up in Hightown with the elf on what felt like a never-ending honeymoon, and Merrill hadn’t been coming around as much since that whole mess with her clan. He supposed that was why _he_ had been spending so much time up here and not down at the bar. “I’m never true to anyone,” she continued, “Well, other than myself.”

“No one could deny you that, Rivaini. And at this point, Bianca basically is an extension of my body. I could never cross her.”

Isabela snorted. “And I’ll never begrudge Bianca the Crossbow of anything. Bianca the woman, on the other hand…”

Varric shook his head, smiling. “Rivaini. You flatter me. But you can’t honestly be in here to tell me you’re… interested.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” She leaned over toward him and flicked the gold ring of his necklace with a finger. “You have good taste in jewelry, good taste in friends, good taste in alcohol—” and now she took a swig from his cup— “Why wouldn’t I assume that you, the man, must also taste good?”

She must have been incredibly bored.

There were pettier reasons to sleep with someone. Bianca had once lured Varric to her half of Thedas, reigniting family battles and ensuring assassins from all corners of the world were well-paid and soon dead, all because she was annoyed with her husband for adopting two stray cats.

He chuckled to himself, not quite sure how to feel about this turn of events. Deflection was always easiest. “Pickings out there must really be slim if you’re coming to me.”

“And who says I want slim? Maybe I want a stocky man with strong arms to wrap around my waist as he beds me tonight.” She shifted in her seat, and Varric didn’t miss how she pushed her breasts together, his eyes flicking over her ample cleavage and then down to an exposed thigh. Internally he rolled his eyes at himself—it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen these views before, though suddenly they inspired a stronger interest for some reason. A certain heated stirring in areas best left forgotten. A foolish picture in his head of her hands running through his chest hair.

Not to mention he’d seen her use these moves plenty of times, the exposed skin, the sensual language, never thinking he would fall victim to them himself. But If she thought there was no chance—if he hadn’t been giving her some signal he was open to it—she would have already changed the subject. Found a different target or contented herself on finishing off his liquor.

He took a drink from his cup now, the cup she had just had her lips to, and more than the alcohol burned as he swallowed. Isabela uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and when that drew his gaze, she smiled. No poker faces tonight; she knew she had a winning hand.

“So what do you say, Varric?” Her eyes ran up and down his chest, her lip between her teeth, and Varric surprised himself at how he wanted to be wanted, at least tonight.

“I say…” he started, not sure at all how he was going to finish that sentence. His head had gone fuzzy and he could not believe he was actually considering doing this. “I say we can’t tell Hawke.”

Her smile was victorious. “I never kiss and tell.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why this little fic came to me in its entirety while I was showering, but I dutifully wrote it down and it's your problem now.


End file.
